Page 56 of Nothing to Fear
“Asher?” I call out, turning and looking for him among the bookshelves. When he doesn’t reply, I head to our normal table to wait for him. My eyes immediately spot a piece of paper with Asher’s handwriting scrolled across the top.
Stand where the flames cast shadows over the book of lineage, the wall across from it is a false door. Push in with the flat of your hand against the faint heart carved into the stone. Go through it and follow the hallway to the end.
Trick or treat?
What the hell?Did he find the entrance to the cemetery? Following Asher’s steps, I face the old stone wall and can vaguely make out the carving of a heart. Pressing against it, the door audibly groans and creaks, slowly popping open. I have to strong-arm it open with my shoulder against it, but eventually I separate the space just enough for me to slip through. Dustfalls from above like freshly fallen snow, and I swat my hand through it to clear my vision.
Using the light on my phone, I face a narrow hallway in front of me. The light only illuminates so far, only allowing me to see a few steps ahead. Musk and mildew permeate the air, filling my nose as I step forward, my heart in my throat.
I let the dim light guide me as I walk through the empty darkness, trusting that Asher isn’t sending me to my death. An intricate web of catacombs has been under the school grounds this entire time, and we had no idea. I expected a secret entrance, but what I didn’t expect was an entire network below the school. Old markings line the wall, some carved into the stone itself, others painted, a deep, dark red that has faded throughout time. I follow the narrow path, and after a few minutes of walking with no end in sight, I come to a set of steep stairs that lead to complete darkness above me.
I take them carefully, the old wood rotted and in complete disrepair. With no light above me, I reach the end, where I press against another hard wall, hoping like hell it opens. After some fumbling, the door silently gives way, and I come out into what looks like a ceremonial chamber, but it has to be the mausoleum. The room is old and stuffy, the air stagnant and decaying.
“Holy shit. He really found it.”
As I use my flashlight to look around the room, I find each of their names carved into old stone in five separate spaces above what are clearly marked resting places.
Grimsley
Ashcroft
Mortwood
Harrow
Thorne
They were all buried together. Eager to leave the stuffiness of the final resting place of Corvus’ founding members, I quickly locate the door. With my pulse a steady thrum between my ears, I push through the dusty, cobweb-covered interior door of the mausoleum, and a gust of cool air hits my skin. The moon sits full and high, clouds moving across the dark sky. It’s forbidden to visit Nocturne Graves at Corvus since it’s hallowed ground, and to be here on Halloween night when the veil between the two worlds is at its thinnest is almost unthinkable. I can’t believe tonight, of all nights, is when Asher finally found a way in.
The wind dances over me, urging me forward, further into the graveyard as a chill races down my spine. A blur of glowing green flashes in the near distance, and I halt my steps.
“Such a good boy.”
The voice echoes around me, but it’s distorted, familiar. Icy fear prickles over my skin as I turn in quick circles, looking around for Asher and coming up empty. The only light shines from the moon above, the tall gravestones and mausoleums casting long shadows that look like ghosts reaching out for me. The wind blows again, and I start to panic. Fear takes over my bloodstream and turns my veins to ice.
“Asher?”
“Trick or treat?” the voice calls out again, the same familiar distortion that instantly brings me back to the first Fright Night. Fuck. Did he somehow figure out who I am? I know it was Asher’s handwriting on that paper, don’t I?
A rustle of leaves to my left has me spinning in that direction, then again on my right, and my name is called out intothe ominous dead of night. I turn quickly, steady on my feet but confused and panicked. My heartbeat ratchets up behind my ribs, my breathing coming in a heavy cadence.
Fingers dust over my cheek, following the outline of my jaw until his grip tightens around my chin, the outline of a green skeleton glowing back at me. I jerk backward, nearly tripping over a root when strong hands grip my biceps, hoisting me back into his hard chest.
“My sweet Silas. You haven’t forgotten about me, have you? You’re such a good boy. Remember how I claimed you? How you spread your legs and let me sink my cock into your perfect ass,” he taunts, his grip on me hard and sure. “You still want me, don’t you? You want my cock to fill you again? Make you feel whole? You want me to give you everything you’ve ever wanted?”
That voice. Those hands. His words and touch strike me at my core. My mouth goes dry as they sink into the marrow of my bones. When I don’t answer him, he lifts his mask just above his top lip, and then he crashes down on my mouth a moment later. His lips are surprisingly warm, but before I can lean further into his kiss, sharp teeth sink into the plush flesh of my bottom lip, nipping until iron tang explodes on my tongue. I jerk backward in shock, my tongue darting out and licking up the excess blood. His lips are covered with crimson, proof of what he did smeared across his mouth.
I look at him in shock as he replaces his mask, cocking his head to the side and staring back at me. His hand reaches for my face, thumb swiping over the remaining blood before returning the pad of his thumb to his own mouth, sucking off the remnants.
“Mmm. You taste delicious,” he states as he replaces his mask over his mouth and chin. “You gave yourself to me, Silas, and now you’re mine.” He says the words as if it’s anundisputed fact, as if it was written in the stars, and there are no other options.
“Who are you?” The words come out broken as confusion and arousal war with each other inside my veins.
“Yours.”
Mine.
The masked mystery man grips a handful of my jacket, pulling me close to him as he whispers in my ear, his voice low, ominous, and distorted through the machine. “Walk away if you don’t want this because if you stay, I’m going to do dirty, dirty things to you.”
